An Ode to the One-Gun Hunter

Years of dust and dirt fill the screws of the mount and rings so much that you probably couldn’t fit a T-10 bit in there to adjust it, even if you wanted. This is probably for the best, as the scope and mount have become an integral part of the rifle and removing it might actually compromise the integrity of the gun. After all, “why fix something that isn’t broke,” you’ve probably heard them say when pressed about a changing of the guard.

There’s a stubbornness or loyalty to this type of rifle devotion. You’ve probably noticed that they’re also loyal to the camp, their hunting spots, and maybe even in general. They aren’t easily swayed by fads, trends, or flashy gear. If there’s anything older than their rifle, it’s probably their camo (or plaid). These folks might even be the most consistent hunters you know. Their matrimony to their rifle plays no small part in this.

Above all, hunting rifles are tools. The more you use one, the more familiar you become with it. It’s no surprise that the one-gun hunter operates their rifle like an extension of themselves. They don’t just know how to work their rifle, they know how their rifle works. And I don’t just mean mechanically. Whether they’re wearing three layers or one, they know exactly how to shoulder their rifle when a running shot presents itself; how far in front to bring it before lifting it up to brace their shoulder against the stock. Throwing the bolt or racking the slide happens as naturally and instinctively as breathing. They know exactly which parts rattle or creak, so they don’t alert deer when they’re close. While they might not seem fast on their feet, there’s nothing slow about how they maneuver their rifle when it’s time to take a shot.

For as long as I can remember, my grandfather only hunted with a Marlin 336 in .30-30 Win. He started as a quail hunter before the deer numbers boomed. When he started deer hunting, he joined a deer-dog camp. His wingshooting and the deer-dog drives made him deadly off the cuff. He never used a sling but carried that 336 in his hand by the bottom of the receiver. He carried it for so many years that the bluing around the receiver wore off, and the bottom of the forend was sanded smooth from his hand.

I wouldn’t consider him a marksman, but he knew how to shoot his hunting rifle. It became instinctive to him. This included holdovers and frequent running shots. During deer-dog season he would make a shot on a deer bounding through a clear cut that seemed improbable. Yet, even when he seemed to have missed, the dogs would eventually stop and bay and he’d just laugh and tell us to start dragging. His three biggest bucks all died with hounds on their trail. He never practiced other than to make sure his rifle was still on before each deer season. I don’t recommend this type of shooting regimen, but somehow it worked for my grandfather. I guess hunting with the same rifle for decades might do that for you.

Now, hunters have endless options when it comes to choosing a hunting rifle. With new, application-specific rifles and the trove of used classics at mom-and-pop gun shops, there’s no shortage. If you can think of a specific hunting scenario, there’s a rifle company somewhere that markets for it. This isn’t a bad thing. That type of precise utility bodes well for hunters, particularly specialists. Of course, you’ll be hard-pressed to find one rifle that covers everything from whitetails to dangerous game in Africa. But let’s be honest. Most hunters will never visit that continent, much less hunt it.

While newer, synthetic-stocked rifles make excellent tools in the field, they (generally) lack the aesthetic and tradition of classic, wood-stocked rifles. This makes newer rifles easier to barter or sell, negating any repertoire between rifle and rifleman (or woman). I never lost sleep over the synthetic rifles I swapped or sold, but there are several lever actions or wood-stocked guns I sold that still sting.

The rifles of one-gun hunters tend to take on the persona of its owner. When you see it in old photos or propped in the cabin corner, you probably think of the hunter more than the gun itself, whether you realize it or not. This is especially true if you know the bittersweet transaction of inheriting a rifle from late family members.

This doesn’t happen with new guns or those hunters who bring a different rifle to camp every year. Sure, one-gun hunters might seem old-fashioned, but that kind of rifle commitment ages better than most trends (like the short-lived, short magnum craze). If anything, one-gun hunters serve as a lesson in contentment, and that’s something all hunters can benefit from.